


Love, Love in the Morning

by Coffee_Flavored_Kisses



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, M/M, cute and married and in love, married, morning cuddles and kissing, post wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses/pseuds/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses
Summary: A response to an ask for some post-wedding fluff. Short and sweet.





	Love, Love in the Morning

His eyes are barely open, but they’re open enough. He can see that David is still asleep beside him, one arm cradling his own head from underneath his pillow, the other arm splayed over Patrick’s body. He smiles, wants to lean over and kiss David’s nose. In fact, he does.

David’s eyes open. It’s a gradual process, slow and steady, but he sees Patrick immediately. How could he not?

“Hi,” he whispers.

Patrick smiles, and he runs the first two fingers of one hand along the curve of David’s jawline. “Hey,” he answers back in kind.

And then he wonders if the night before actually happened. Drinking and dancing and drinking some more and dancing some more. All of this, of course, coming just hours after they’d exchanged vows under the chuppah and kissed in front of family and friends and “sealed the deal,” as Stevie had put it. He wonders if they’d really held each other during that photo session, if what was meant to be a contemplative pose had really turned into a kiss, and if they’d really run away from their guests for those fifteen heavenly minutes to be alone in back of the hall and remind each other of their love in private. He wonders if they’d really raised a glass to one another during speeches and if they’d really held hands under the table while dinner was served and if they’d really gotten that terribly awkward gift from Wendy, of all people. Or, he wonders, had it all been the best dream of his life? After all this time, he still can’t quite believe he could ever come so close to happiness.

David pulls him in for a proper kiss, one hand sliding down Patrick’s left arm until it reaches his hand, fingers intertwining. David encourages the other arm around his body, and they lay like this for a few moments, their lips welded together, their bodies warmed by one another, the unfamiliar hotel room around them and the late morning hour coming true all at once. And when they finally stop, David brings the hand up to his face and presses his cheek into the palm of Patrick’s left hand. The band of gold answers all of his questions.

Yes, it had all happened.

“I’m so happy,” Patrick whispers. “You know that?”

David stares up at him, a little bit like he cannot, in fact, believe it. As if Patrick would lie to him, or as if Patrick would have gone through with all of this if he didn’t know without a shadow of a doubt that this was what he wanted. As if David himself didn’t feel the same way.

“Mmhm,” he nods at last, allowing himself to realize it. And his hand strays up into Patrick’s hair, or what little of it there is to play with. It’s still a bit messy from last night, and there’s some scruff to shave away. He likes seeing Patrick like this. He likes that he’s the only one who gets to see him like this, before he trades in his eight-pack boxer shorts and plain white cotton tee for a button-up and dark wash denim. He gets to see those sleepy eyes go from green to hazel to brown and back to green again in the light of the morning sun. He gets to see Patrick’s routine of brushing his teeth and combing his hair and gargling mouthwash for exactly thirty seconds. It’s annoying, but he’s grown used to it.

And then suddenly there are tears in his eyes. He can’t seem to break his gaze from Patrick’s, but once he feels the tears begin, the lump in the throat, the quivering chin, he looks away. And in bewilderment, Patrick asks what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” David answers honestly. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong at all, and I fucking love it.”

Patrick smiles, and he kisses salty tears away from David’s cheeks before he settles on his nose, and then his lips again.

“I love you,” David breathes against Patrick’s parted lips.

“Mm,” Patrick hums. “My favorite words…”

David’s grin grows wider, his arms tightening around Patrick’s waist.

“Let’s order breakfast in this morning,” Patrick tells him softly.

“ _My_ favorite words.”

They kiss again, then again. It’s morning, but not really. They should get out of bed and shower and eat and all those usual things that still have to happen, even the day after your wedding. But they don’t want to. They don’t want to do anything but _this_.

So _this_ is exactly what they do.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: nbc-trialanderror


End file.
